


Confrontation

by JustSomeoneWhoLikesToWrite



Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate take on episode 120 & 121, Apollo is Trash, Character Study, Gen, Gods are powerful and can influence the environment around them, Hera is Royalty, Hera is a Queen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Seriously this boy needs to get it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:00:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26187586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustSomeoneWhoLikesToWrite/pseuds/JustSomeoneWhoLikesToWrite
Summary: Hera doesn’t have hunches. She hasvisions.Or a.k.a Hera finds out what Apollo did to Persephone.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 52





	Confrontation

There’s a thing to say about hunches, Hera thinks.

A gut feeling, a chill down your spine. The feeling that even though you can’t pinpoint it, can’t _quite_ put your finger on the why or the how, you just _know_.

Know deep down in your bones that something is just not _right_.

But, here’s the thing, Hera doesn’t _have_ hunches. They’re fickle things, feeble little bunches of feelings. Can be wrong just as much as they can be right, varies from person to person.

They’re unpredictable. Unreliable. Undependable.

_No_ , Hera doesn’t have the amateurish and childish things that are hunches.

She has _visions_. And, even though Zeus thinks otherwise, thinks she just being _emotional_ , they are always _right_. _  
_

So, when Apollo grabs her arm-

(-grabbing her like they’re equal, like they’re in the same _league_. Like she’s _common folk_.

_Ha_ , he’s not even high up enough to _lick her boots_ -)

She _drowns_ , thrust in the past and in the present, sensations overflowing from her body like soapy air bubbles.

Heavy breathing, the heady musk of sweat. Soft sheets beneath her palms and fingers, pressing, digging, caging a body underneath. A phone held up like a trophy, like a prized lyre, a smirk ripping at her cheeks.

Red, _red_ eyes and thick pollen and sharp vines like a crown. Anger and arrogance and _fear_ , oh gods, so much _fear_ ; filling her lungs, coating her throat, thick on the back of her tongue like a song-

( _“Don’t act like you don’t want this-“_

_“We. Are._ **_Nothing_ ** _-“_

_“I’m just taking pictures. Relax-“_

_“No wonder you’re so confused-“_

_“I’m going to_ **_tell_ ** _-“_

_“-all of the three kingdoms will see these photos-“_

_“I’m_ **_afraid_ ** _of you-“_

_“Remember, Hera doesn’t like Zeus that much,_ _a_ _n_ _d_ _̶_ _I’_ ** _m̴_** _h_ _̵_ _a_ ** _p̴_** ** _p_** ** _̶_** _y_ _̵_ _̷_ _t̴o̴_ **̴s** **̶** **e** **t** **̵** **t** **̷** **l** **e** **̷** _̶_ _f_ _̶_ **o̴** _r_ _̷_ ** _̷_** ** _t̴_** ** _h_** ** _̷_** ** _e_** ** _s_** **** ** _a_** ** _̷_** ** _m_** ** _̶_** ** _e̴_** ** _̶_** ** _a_** ** _̷_** ** _r_** ** _̶_** ** _r̴_** ** _a_** **** ** _n_** ** _̵_** ** _g_** ** _̶_** ** _e_** ** _̵_** ** _m_** **** ** _e̴_** ** _n_** ** _̵_** ** _t-_** **** _“_ )

Hera gags, tears running down her cheeks. Apollo jumps back and lets go of her, eyes darting around. He’s _checking_ to see if anyone’s around, nervous, more worried about his _reputation_ then Persephone and that has Hera barking out a laugh, wiping at her cheek with the back of her hand.

“Persie!” Apollo exclaims, face twisted, eyes wide, and Hera wonders how big they can _really_ get if she takes his head between her hands and just _squeezes_ , “You’re acting really weird, are you okay-“

“ _I know what you did_ ,” Hera hisses, hair billowing around her like a crown, like an omen, steam escaping between the cage of her gnashing teeth.

Apollo rears back. He stares at her before he sets his mouth, lowers his brows. His eyes are red as he closes in, crowds her, towers over her with his height, and maybe if she was someone else she would have cowed. Would have shrunk back like a wilted flower, but she isn’t Persephone, she isn’t just _anybody_.

She fucking _Hera_ , one of the Six Traitors Dynasty, Queen of the Heavens and Earth, and she isn’t _afraid of_ _anyone_. Not the Titans, not Zeus, not even _Cronus_ himself.

And she certainly isn’t afraid of some _child_ pretending to be a _God_.

So she steps right up to him, until they’re chest to chest, until Apollo is sweating from the heat of her body. Mold and overgrowth sprout from the bricks surrounding them; trees shrivel and die. A shrill sound like a string being plucked spreads through the air, rays of Sun glowing from the irises of Apollo.

(Somewhere, a couple is getting divorced and a family falls ill of a plague. Paints dry up and a honeymoon is filled with yells.)

“ _I don’t know_ ,” Apollo says slowly, carefully, like she’s a _child_ who needs to be placated and Hera sneers, baring her teeth at him, “what _thing_ you think I did-“

And isn’t that just _funny_? She’s masquerading as someone else and she’s _still_ getting gaslighted, being belittled, but she sure as _Tartarus_ not going to take that without a _fight_.

“I don’t _think_ ,” Hera spits, floating up, looking down as she’s always meant to be, at her rightful place above him, “I _know_.”

Apollo grabs both of her wrists, puffs his chest. They‘re face to face, pink on purple, yellow on yellow. Their skin is damp with the growing fog.

“ _Persephone_ -“ Apollo growls lowly, voice melodic and trilling and _so_ _beautiful_ it makes her fucking _sick_.

He’s about to say something, about to snap something back, when he notices the clouds coming in, grey and casting over their forms. There’s been a rumble building beneath the earth and he can feel it vibrating on the soles of his feet. He looks _startled_ now, looking at the sky and the ground and then at _her_. The smirk Hera gives is downright _deadly_.

“D-did you-“ Apollo stutters, trying to back away from her but she doesn’t let him, digging into her forearms like a sickle, _ichor_ falling between them like golden tears, “Did you tell _Zeus_?”

Hera _snarls_ , brings him closer until he has no choice but to look into her eyes. There’s a heat gathering in her palms and Apollo _yowls_ , twisting and turning as steam rises between them like a veil.

“You’re _burning_ -“

“I didn’t tell Zeus,” Hera says, eyes wide, smile big, filled with so much _rage_ she’s bursting at the seams with it, “The one who knows is So. Much. _Worse_.”

She finally lets go of him, lets the glamour fall away and it’s like putting on her favorite coat, a pair of new heels. She feels _powerful_ in her own skin again and the feeling only increases when she sees the way Apollo _pales_ , shrinking into himself.

His mouth flaps open and closed, he’s so _confused_ he can’t even form words. How _cute_.

“I _see_ you,” Hera says, smug and in control and so _angry_ she could burn all of the realms to the ground, “And now you see _me_.”

The way Apollo flinches when she taps his nose makes her _laugh_.

**Author's Note:**

> Y’all forgetting that Hera is the most vindictive bitch in Greek Mythology


End file.
